Colorblind
by Emerin
Summary: Walking the lonely streets of New York, Harry reflects on his life, what it has become, and who's no longer in it...x SLASH HarrySeverus x


Hullo Gentle Readers!

Heh, i'm on a roll today. Told you I had nothing to do 'cept write. Good news for all you fans out there. Now, I'm not sure I did this right, but oh well. Its my very first Snarry fic and I'm still kinda squicky about it. Not a big fan of the Snarry. But i did it anyway. Can't object to it properly until you've done it firsthand. THEN you can hate it all you want...kinda like eating tomatoes...

Anywho. Enjoy and don't forget to review! I need inspirational motivation. My life is lacking right now. :pouts:

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He walked down the vacant night streets of lower Manhattan admiring the way the emotionless skyscrapers loomed above him like humoungous metal and glass trees in the depths of an urban rainforest. They relfected their twinkling lights so innocently upon the asphalt which seemed to absorb the biting shower into its blackness until it seemed it was all 1 big mud puddle. The royal blue Sony headphones slipped down over a ridge on his ear making it uncomfortable,so with a gentle nudge he scooted it back in place then zipped up his black cord jacket to keep out the bleak menacing of a New York downpour. He was lucky this route had shops and apartment buildings,the overhangs helped him avoid getting anymore than sprinkled on with icy raindroplets. A few ran down his messy black mop and trickled along his tan neck sending shivers across his flesh. He had wanted to skip out on this adventure,but habit won out.

A walk every night,rain,sleet or snow. Gave him time to soak in peace,silence...solitude. Chaos was his middle name,prolly his first as well.Maybe even last. His schedule never gave him a moments rest,but he liked it that way. Errands to get done, clients to see, stock to file. Being the owner of Weasley's Wizarding Wheezes: American Branch never crossed his mind during his formative years, neither was moving out to busy and bussling NYC.

But it suited him, his new lifestyle. He was someone new,not to these people here,but to his past. He was Mr.Boss here, a joker.

Back then...he'd prefer not to remember those days. _They're over_, he told himself. No need to rehash everything he'd went through. Much rather keep him moving on, never letting his feet stay in one place too long. It was just better, and he liked it. The walks allowed him to think back though,which was a massive downside.

The almost silent and barren city streets at this time of night always gave him perspective. A sense of how small he really is. How no one would ever find him, not here. Like trying to find hay in a stack of needles. He had purposely twisted around that phrase, suited the Big Apple.

Finding softness in this hardcore and stiff town was damn near impossible.So, he felt very confident he was safe. He could live out his life without ever having to confront what he left behind. No one would ever know. He liked it very well that way. Better to leave things unsaid then to have a nasty closure. Only Ron got an explanation since he was there when he'd gotten the news from Dumbledore and when he'd taken Fred and George's offer and left for the states.

He had defintely changed since then. His inner being was still the same, however, to his most disliking. He was still vunerable far down, still yearning for that intangible touch to reach deep in and squeeze his achings out.

_No more of that_, he scolded to his thoughts. Time and time again he swore to himself he'd never regret what he left behind. Never to hear what his subconscious was screaming for him to listen to.

The pang sprung up again,seizing his chest. His sleek forehead crinkled as he habitually sucked the emotions in and buried them in the back of his gut. Taking a deep, smoothe lungful of the crisp midnight air he released all angst towards his forgotten and abandoned past.

He had to let go of him; his gentle caresses, his soft locks of hair brushing against his cheek,his strong arm slipping round his waist as they slept.

No better time then this, no better time than now.

With an exhale, he let him go. Their memories together, the sickening madness that consumed him after Dumbledore told him he'd been killed by Lucius Malfoy who realized he was the spy. He finally let them go...Severus would've wanted it that way.

He licked his salty lips and pushed away fresh tears then continued down the raggedy block feeling the burden of 5 years lifted off. It was a long time, true, but he couldn't hang onto him anymore than it was wise to cling to a blade of grass during a hurricane.

He loved him and would always love him. The god of a million words, the king of mended hearts, the sorcerer of beloved eyes, the Mars above all universes. His beauty.

A heartbroken sigh escaped his mouth at the thought of reality. He didn't like it. He felt alone, like always. But he decided to finally deal with it.

Turning the corner he turned up the volume on the song that always made his heart sink and wrench in longing. But he let it come. The piano chords seeped to the edges of his soul turning them brillant blue.

He shone in his own world of unspoken messages and visits to coffee shops where he'd talk to his beloved as if he were still alive and sitting right across the table.

He walked on into the darkness of the great city, no longer hiding behind his mask of denial and pain.

He walked on in memory of his love and smiled a smile just for him, knowing Severus would be smiling right back.


End file.
